It Takes a Real Man To Be a Dad
by luminosity45
Summary: Gibbs deals with the worst day of the year, Father's Day. Written for the NFA Fathers and Sons Challenge.


He woke up on the couch, the first light of dawn barely illuminating the living room. He knew what day it was. One of the most painful days of the year, Father's Day. The other painful days; His & Shannon's wedding anniversary, Kelly's birthday, Shannon's birthday, and the day his girls died. He went for his normal 3 mile run, which he stretched into 6 miles, just because he needed to punish himself just a little more than usual. He still blamed himself for not being there when they needed him.

When he got home he put coffee on and headed for a shower while the coffee brewed. After a shower and shave, he got dressed, putting on one of his better suits. It was Sunday after all; he always wore a suit to church.

Downstairs, in the kitchen, the coffee was ready. He grabbed a mug from the back of the shelf, one he rarely used. It was a gift from Kelly for Father's day in 1989. She made it at school. It was one of those mugs that she was able to draw a picture on and it became permanent. It was a dad, a mom and a little girl, a family, his family. They all were smiling. He looked at the mug, and while it tugged at his heart, it also made him smile. He remembered how proud Kelly was that she made the mug all by herself. He held the mug against his chest for a few moments before he filled it with coffee, one of the few connections he still had with his daughter. He drained the brown liquid from the mug in barely 3 gulps, refilled it, and drained in again, nearly as quickly.

He liked the early church service, he was already up and it was less crowded, people liked to sleep in on Sunday. Usually he sat near the back, by himself, where no one ever bothered him, today was no different. Father's day, was one of those days he sometimes thought about skipping church, the sermon was usually about how a father needed to care for his family. Something he couldn't do 20 years ago and it still gnawed at him. As the pastor started to preach, he was getting ready to walk out, and then he heard the first words, "Our Father above is the only perfect father. All other fathers fail. Not all the time. Sometimes, a father fails the people who need him the most at the time he is most needed."

It was like an invisible head slap had just been delivered to him. He decided to stay, at least a little while longer. The pastor continued "All fathers have doubts, more than they will ever admit. Did I respond correctly? Did I do what was best for my family? Did I do everything to protect my family? This is not the question that fathers should be asking. Maybe 'father' is not the right word to use here. 'Dad' is a better word to use. Anyone can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a dad. A dad doesn't get an instruction book, there is little in The Bible that tells us how a dad should act or behave outside the general instructions for all of us. Dads have to figure it out as they go along. To be a dad is to give love unconditionally. To be a dad is to try to protect, but let go at the same time. To be a dad, you have to ignore what you want, and allow your child to make their own mistakes. Being a dad is against all your instincts, but it is the most important job you will ever be given. Being a dad doesn't ever end, even when your child no longer needs you." The pastor kept going on, but Gibbs was lost in his own thoughts. The words hit home. He was still a dad, he still had the love, the fear his child was no longer here, but he still felt it all.

This was the first Father's Day in a long time he really felt like a father, his guilt was still there, but it wasn't overwhelming him for not being there for his girls. He knew he tried to do his best. He loved Kelly with all his heart and he always would. He would have done anything for her. He knew that he wasn't there when he needed to be, but even if he was, would things have been different? This was the first time he thought about that.

The sermon ended and communion was offered. Gibbs partook in communion, and then lit two candles for his girls as he left the sanctuary.

He drove to the cemetery to visit Shannon's and Kelly's graves at the cemetery. It was part of his normal after church routine. He didn't have flowers every Sunday, but today was one of those special, painful days. He had a bouquet of marigolds from the backyard. They were the flowers that Shannon and Kelly had originally planted so many years ago. He collected seeds from the flowers each year and replanted the seeds the next year. It was a small thing he did to maintain a connection with his family.

He walked to the grave and placed the flowers at the base of the tombstone. "Hey Shannon, Kelly." His normal greeting. He looked up from the grave, looked around at the silence that surrounded him. In such a bustling area, the cemetery had a protective shield that kept a peaceful silence around it. Gibbs continued, as always, "I wish you were still here. I wish I could have done something back then." Then he went on to describe his week, the bad guys the team caught, the shenanigans by his team, especially the ones they didn't think he knew about, that made him smile and even laugh a little. After a while, Gibbs was sitting next to the graves, one hand on the tombstone, the other running through his hair. "I'll always love you Shannon and Kelly." Gibbs stood up and blew a kiss toward the tombstone.

Just like every other Sunday, he drove back home. But this Sunday, he didn't go directly to his basement like he usually did. Instead sat on the couch, picked up the phone and dialed a number he memorized a long time ago.

"Hel-lo!" the strong voice boomed through the phone.

"Hey Dad! Happy Father's Day!" Gibbs tried to sound enthusiastic.

"Leroy! Thanks. It's good to hear from you! Thanks for the card." The elder Gibbs said, and the younger man could almost see his father's smile through the phone. "How are you doing today?" The concern the older man had for his son evident in his voice.

"OK, dad." That was the most verbalization Jack could expect from his son. If he could see him, there may have been more said with his eyes, but over the phone, he'd have to settle for the two words. "You doing anything special?"

"Just gonna go fishing for a little bit." Jack said.

"I said 'anything special'. You fish nearly every Sunday and assorted other days during the week." Jethro laughed a bit.

"Hey, I like fishing, and to me, any day fishing is special. Kinda like what that basement you spend so much time in is to you." Jack explained.

"OK, I get it dad." Gibbs smiled. His dad always did go fishing when he had problems to sort out, or just to relax, just like him and his basement. Maybe they were too much alike. That's probably one reason why they butted heads when he was younger. "When I get a chance, I'll come up for a visit, and we can go fishing for a day."

"I'd like to have you visit, son." Jack really enjoyed seeing his son on a regular basis again.

"Think I can get a day or two off around Fourth of July, make it a long weekend. I'll let ya know." Gibbs knew he and his dad had come a long way, but still had some mending in their relationship that would take time. "I'll have your Father's Day present, too."

"That'd be nice to see you then. Let me know, I'll make sure someone can cover me at the store during that time." Jack tried to downplay his excitement that his son would come for a visit. "And Leroy, you gonna tell me what the present is? Otherwise I just might have to make a few calls to see what I can find out."

"You'll just have to wait until I get there to find out what your present it." Gibbs smiled. "I'll give you a call tomorrow to see if it is a go." Gibbs was pretty sure it wouldn't be a problem taking the days off to visit his dad. "And leave Abby alone! Don't try to sweet talk her into doing your snooping."

"OK, son. I'll try not to sweet talk Abby, but it is so hard." Jack smiled just thinking about the bubbly forensic scientist. "I look forward to hearing from you. You take care of yourself."  
"You too, dad."

"Bye, son. Hope to see you at Fourth of July."

"Me too. Bye." Gibbs hung up. He smiled, his relationship with his dad has come a long way. Both were very cordial on the phone. It was always much easier to converse on the phone with his dad than it was face-to-face. He looked at the phone, "Love you Dad." Why was it easier to say after he hung up than when his dad was still on the line?

Gibbs got up from the couch, moved through his kitchen and descended the stairs into his sanctum and poured himself a full glass of bourbon. He took a long sip. Set the glass down and looked at the project he had in the middle of the basement, a rocking chair, the Father's Day gift for his dad. He could already picture his dad in the rocking chair. He would deliver it when he visited in a few weeks. He set the glass of bourbon on the table in the center of the basement and rubbed his hand over the surfaces of the chair. It would need a little more sanding, then a couple coats of stain, another sanding then a varnish. Almost done. Gibbs started in on the sanding.

After a little while, he heard footsteps upstairs. Someone entered through the front door, went to the kitchen, stopped at the fridge, then continued on to the basement. By the sound of the footsteps, he knew it was DiNozzo. He continued to sand, waiting for the agent to find his way down to the basement.

DiNozzo came down the stairs and stood there watching his boss sand the chair. He knew that Gibbs knew that he was there, but Gibbs was just waiting for him to do or say something. He walked toward his boss, "Hey boss! Happy Father's Day!" he held a bottle of Blanton's Original Single Barrel out toward him. "The guy at the liquor store recommended a couple different brands, and I liked the one with the horse on top."

Gibbs stopped sanding and looked at what this Senior Field Agent was holding out toward him. He took the bottle and looked it closely, impressed at the quality of bourbon DiNozzo picked out, "Thanks DiNozzo! This is a really nice bottle of bourbon!"

DiNozzo smiled awkwardly. "It's just a small token of thanks for being more of a dad to me over these past 11 years than my father had ever been."

Gibbs then did something that DiNozzo would have never expected; he reached out and took his senior agent into a massive hug. "Thanks, Tony. You have no idea how much this makes my Father's Day". At first DiNozzo didn't know what to do with his hands, and then he wrapped them around Gibbs, in the best man-hug he could muster. He always thought of Gibbs as a father figure, but never knew the feeling was reciprocated this strongly. Gibbs could barely let loose of his senior agent. He was overcome with emotion, but kept it in check as best he could.

"Wow! Didn't know that a bottle of bourbon could make you go soft like that boss! If I had known that 10 years ago…." DiNozzo trailed off, seeing the glare, he knew a head slap wouldn't be far behind.

"Yeah? Well, at least it isn't honey dust. If I hugged you after you gave me honey dust, hell, that'd worry me!"

DiNozzo smiled, the emotion that he had seen in his boss's eyes had passed. "Boss! I brought steaks! I put them in the fridge before coming down here." DiNozzo looked at his boss to make sure he was OK. He had never received a hug from Gibbs before. It gave him a warm fuzzy feeling inside. The kind of feeling you get when you realize you have a dad who loves you and will always be there for you, even if he doesn't show it very often.

"Steaks sound good. Thanks DiNozzo"

The two agents heard footsteps above. "Sounds like some other people are here to wish you a happy Father's Day, Gibbs" Tony offered. "And if I guess correctly, they have potato salad, coleslaw, and cold beer. You really need to stock your fridge boss. Not much in there."

The sound of footsteps stopped at the door to the basement. McGee, Abby and Ziva looked down, "Happy Father's Day, Gibbs!" they said in unison.

Gibbs smiled. He looked at the three younger agents and the forensic scientist who had come to him on Father's Day. He may not be their Father, but he had done his best to be like a dad to them. Gibbs clapped a hand on DiNozzo's shoulder. "Let's not keep those steaks waiting!" he passed the agent and bounded up the steps two at a time.


End file.
